


Hawthorn

by rhoen



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anbu Yamato | Tenzou, Canon-Typical Violence, Drabble, Killing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2019-01-01 02:50:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12147024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/rhoen
Summary: Tenzou takes out a target in the bingo book.





	Hawthorn

The smell was unmistakable. Sickly sweet and cloying, it carried on the clear autumn breeze and filled the nin with instinctive wariness and dread. Glancing around, he looked for any sign of danger or disturbance, but found nothing. Whatever had happened, it was likely that the attackers were long gone - perhaps by two or three days - but the closeness of death unsettled him. Only very foolish or very reckless nin didn't bother to cover their tracks or destroy those they killed and, with his name in several bingo books, the nin hoped it was the former.

As much as he didn't want to, and longed to keep moving towards what he hoped was relative safety, the nin couldn't help diverging from his path. It would be foolish not to investigate. Gritting his teeth and steadying his heartbeat, he pushed on, following the scent that got stronger and stronger with each passing step.

What he found beggared all belief. He froze on the edge of a clearing, unable to process what he was seeing. For a moment all he could do was stand and stare.

That moment was his undoing. From behind the strange, beautiful white-blossomed trees a figure darted forward, flitting through hand seals. The white porcelain mask, striking red and black markings upon it, identified the figure as Konoha ANBU, but before the horrifying realisation could provoke the reaction it should, it was too late. Wooden tendrils - wood? - burst from the ground, snatching at his ankles and immobilising his wrists. There was no fight. There wasn't the opportunity for one.

The nin was brought to his knees, the ANBU approaching slowly now.

"Hagiwara Ikkaku."

It wasn't a question. It was a confirmation of what the ANBU already knew, and it was the last thing the nin heard before the breeze fluttered through the unseasonable blossoms, stirring the delicate white petals and the smell of death around them. The ANBU formed hand seals again: a rush of earth, the creaking of wood, something bearing down, crushing, creaking ribs, suffocating pain... And then nothing.

-

Kakashi's nose wrinkled in displeasure as Tenzou and Yuugao settled on the branch beside him, the false scent of death lingering around them.

"It's done?"

Tenzou gave a nod, and Kakashi eyed the younger man with quiet admiration. There was just enough of Tenzou's scent to keep the cloying sweetness from becoming too much, but was still unpleasant. Kakashi hadn't wanted to get close to the location Tenzou chose for the ambush, instead choosing to hold the perimeter upwind of the spot. He was glad they could leave.

"Remind me never to make an enemy of you," he said to Tenzou, who quirked his head in question as they set off.

"Senpai?"

"That was terrifying."

**Author's Note:**

> Hawthorn has long been associated with death, because of the smell it produces (it contains one of the first chemicals released by a dead body), and I just really loved the idea of Tenzou using that to really fuck with someone.


End file.
